


one two three (four)

by cinderrain



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron Burr as freelance editor/the best housewife, Alcohol, Alexander works at a bank or something, Eliza as tired but enthusiastic teacher of a split grade 4/5 class, F/M, M/M, Miscommunication, Multi, Polyamory, apologies for all the relationship tagging, who knows what John's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderrain/pseuds/cinderrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza meets a cute guy at a coffee shop, and tells Aaron all about it. Alex meets a cute guy at a bar, and tells Aaron all about it. Aaron is just trying his best, okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one two three (four)

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be updating my other currently ongoing fic instead of writing this? Yes. Is this already written and ready to post while Chapter Three of _i may have punched him_ is not? Also yes. (I'm sorry)

In the mornings, Eliza gets a nice arrangement of bacon, eggs, and three small strawberries. Alexander gets two slices of toast with some jam in between. The reason for this is because Aaron has lived with these two for almost six months now, and he knows Eliza might have time to appreciate the food on her plate each morning but Alexander’s always halfway out the door. Aaron just tries his best to keep up, make something Alexander will finish eating or that he can take with him, and yell after him that there’s blueberry jam on his chin.

Occasionally Aaron manages to catch one or both of them for a goodbye kiss before they rush outside. Today, Eliza laughs and pecks him on the cheek before she and her skirts swirl away.

 

Aaron gets a text from Alexander, saying he’ll be late and not to wait up, so Aaron makes dinner for two again and waits for Eliza to get home.

She sweeps in at six in the evening, arms full of papers and her bag slung over her shoulder. Aaron helps her put them down; her hair is a little bit out of place so he reaches across to pull it back and tuck it behind her ear. She uses the opening to pull him into a quick hug.

She slides into her seat. “How’s my favourite stay-at-home mom?”

“We don’t have kids, Eliza.” Aaron passes her a fork. “Although I suppose you could count Alex.”

“You’re doing a great job with him, then.” She beams. Before Aaron can ask what’s got her in such a good mood, she explains: “So today for a change of scenery I went to the coffee shop after work, you know the one - the little place at the corner of Maple and Ninth?”

“Mhm,” Aaron says, mouth full of pasta.

“And I was marking the science projects from my fourth graders.” She gestures with her fork at the stack settled precariously on the arm of the couch. “This really sweet young man - well, okay, he’s the same age as we are. But still, very sweet - I wasn’t looking when I reached out to grab a sip of coffee and I spilled it all over him.”

“Oh no,” Aaron goes, because it sounds like his cue to react.

“I know! But he goes and buys me another one, even though I knocked it over, and before I can blink he’s seated across from me and we’re talking about my job. He actually sounded interested, too.”

“That’s nice of him.” There’s a reason Aaron is the designated confidant in their relationship, and this is it. “Do we need to call a New Partner Alert meeting?”

“Oh, no. No, not yet. We were just talking, and I have no clue if he’s even interested or single or what.” After a moment’s quiet tomato-sauce-filled contemplation, she adds, “He has all the right opinions and interests to fit right into our little group, though.”

“I won’t rule out the possibility, then,” Aaron laughs.

 

Alexander comes home at midnight, like some sort of tipsy ranting Cinderella, and immediately takes to pouting at Aaron while the latter helps him out of his jacket and shoes.

“I said not to wait up!”

“I was reading,” Aaron replies, in the calm way he knows Alexander hates. “Eliza’s already gone to bed.”

“Well, I -” And then he falls over, and by the time Aaron gets him upright again he’s forgotten about pretending to pout. Alexander’s even more distractable than usual with a little alcohol in him. “Hey, hey. Aaron.”

“I’m here,” comes the mild response as they settle on the couch, carefully away from Eliza’s marking. “What, did you lose another fight?”

“No - well, yes - but that’s not the point. Someone picked a fight with _me_ for once! Instead of the other way around!” Alexander’s eyes are brighter than the stars, which isn’t saying too much because of the streetlights outside, but Aaron’s not the poet in their trio anyway.

“That is pretty rare, yes,” Aaron admits. “But it doesn’t usually get you this bouncy.”

“He was super cute!”

“Ah.”

“He was also super drunk though so I didn’t make any moves but like damn. Also he really knows his stuff. Like damn.” His teeth glitter in the dim lamplight when he smiles, and Aaron pulls Alexander’s hair the rest of the way out of his ponytail because honestly at this point it’s less messy that way.

“Why did he fight you?” Aaron can guess, probably, but it’s nice to hear Alexander talk. It’s not something he’d ever admit out loud, but it does get a little too quiet in the daytime when both of them are out at work.

Alex finally seems to catch on that they’re doing Late-Night Snuggling as a Bonding Activity, and butts his head into Aaron’s shoulder, leaning against his ribs. “Well you know how I always say what I mean, and then some? One of those not-really-what-I-meant-to-say asides caught his attention because he cares about some of these issues more than I do and Aaron I think I want to marry him.”

“Maybe wait until Eliza’s awake so we can have this conversation properly,” Aaron suggests.

“But like I said, I didn’t even flirt with him yet. Don’t jump the gun.” Alexander yawns and buries his face into Aaron’s collarbone, signalling the end of the conversation. Aaron sighs and tries to nudge him off to bed.

 

The next week and a half goes by much as usual, except they run out of blueberry jam so Alexander has to settle for strawberry slices in his toast. Eliza reports tentative attempts to flirt with the cute guy at the coffee shop, and Alexander tells Aaron that he and cute guy at bar are moving past punches to buying each other drinks and ranting about politics.

“How’s it going?” Aaron would ask.

“He’s being sort of noncommittal and I don’t want to rush things by bringing up you two. I’m not sure there’s even the possibility of a dating normally kind of thing yet,” Eliza would sigh.

“But?”

“But his freckles are so cute.”

 

Aaron finds himself not even minding that Alexander’s coming home later more regularly now, because he always looks so happy when he’s back and rambling on about the cute guy’s adorable smile or pretty pretty hair.  
“- and I got caught up in the moment and tried to reach for his hand, and our fingertips brushed together, but then he pulled it away. But he also shifted to sit closer to me?” Alexander shakes his head. “Mixed signals, man.”

“Sounds like maybe he’s not too sure about it himself,” Aaron remarks.

“I swear, Aaron, one of these nights I’m gonna break and just ask him out, full poly spiel and all.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

 

One Thursday, Eliza’s with her elementary kids and Alex is at the bank, and Aaron decides to go out for a grocery run. They’re out of blueberry jam, he reasons. He’s restless. And the route takes him by the corner of Maple and Ninth.

He really only means to glance inside as he walks by, plastic bags in hand, but he catches a glimpse of curls and elaborate hand gesturing, and he can’t resist walking in. Standing by one of the booths is a young man with freckles and, from the snippets of conversation (argument) Aaron can catch, strong political opinions.

Aaron’s had his suspicions for a while, now. He waits until the guy is done talking, and extends his hand in greeting as he walks past. “Hello. Aaron Burr.”

“Oh, um. John Laurens. It’s nice to meet you?”

“Sorry to do this out of the blue, but do you have a moment to sit?” Aaron tries to look as nonthreatening as he can, but John still looks a bit nervous.

“Sure, no problem.” He settles himself gingerly on the edge of one of the bar stools, and Aaron takes a seat opposite.

“So I may be wrong, but I think it’s possible that you’ve been meeting up with my partner for the past week or so,” Aaron starts. He sees immediately that it was the wrong place to begin - panic flashes across John’s eyes.

“Oh my god I am so so sorry, I didn’t know, I swear -”

Aaron wonders vaguely if the thoughts racing through his head right now are along the lines of ‘I knew she was too pretty to be single oh no oh man’ or ‘Alex dropped a few hints in his long-ass rants I should’ve caught them why didn’t I catch them’. He reaches out a hand to stop him, and it accidentally lands on John’s knuckles. He weighs his options and decides to leave it there and pretend he meant to; anyway, the hand is pleasantly cold.

“It’s all right, really, please let me explain.” Aaron takes a breath, tries again. “We’re in a poly relationship, and I knew you existed, so everything’s okay.”

“It’s really - like, actually -”

“Head over heels,” Aaron reassures him. “It’s completely fine if you’re not up for the arrangement, though! It’s your choice. But,” and it’s his turn to pause and look down, “would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow?”

 

Alexander comes home only half an hour after Eliza does, for once. He grumbles something about not being able to find anyone at the bar to drink with, and settles down for dinner. It’s nice to have all three of them together for once, and it’s also convenient for Aaron’s announcement.

“All right, so. Alex, I know you’ve probably used up your monthly quota of coming home before ten pm, but I need you to be back at least before seven tomorrow, okay?” Aaron pauses, and Alexander grumbles some more. “We’re having a guest over.”

“Oh? Who is it?” Eliza asks, always ready to play gracious host. “Do you need help with the cooking?”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it handled.”

 

Friday: Aaron does not have this handled. He… probably should have figured out which of his two partners was flirting with John Laurens? But it’s a quarter to seven, too late now to try to pause the proceedings. He’s not used to playing it by ear, but he supposes if anything rubbed off on him from six months of living with Alexander Hamilton, the ability to survive spontaneity is at least useful.

Eliza’s fussing with Alexander’s collar, and Alex gets frustrated and, sticking out his tongue, licks her on the nose. She shrieks and giggles, and Aaron grins fondly watching them. He’s about to call out some remark about acting like kids when the doorbell rings.

Aaron nearly knocks his chair over trying to be the first to get the door, and Eliza sits by Alex, both looking confused. The bewilderment only increases when they see the “guest”, and Aaron can only stand back and wait.

“John?” Eliza looks delighted to see him, at least.

“Hi.” John’s looking a bit pale, and it seems like he’s not sure who to look at. He casts a pleading glance at Aaron, and is met with a shrug. “I think maybe you all need better communication skills.”

Eliza glances at Alexander (who looks equally shocked-delighted), glances back at John, and then everyone looks at Aaron.

“Look, I only had suspicions! What are the chances that our lives are literally a romcom?” Aaron throws his hands up in a helpless gesture. “And how come neither of you realized?”

“I never did find out your name,” Alexander admits, sheepish. “And I’m always home too late to talk to Eliza. Sorry babe?” Eliza flicks him between the eyebrows, and Alex whines.

“So let me get this straight. The reason we didn’t all start dating you sooner is because two of us were going after you at the same time?” Her lips are pressed together, but Aaron suspects mirth rather than annoyance.

“And I didn’t want to commit to one and then - Well. Neither of you disclosed your relationship status.” John crosses his arms, but has to bite the corner of his lip to keep from laughing when Alex smushes his face into Eliza’s shoulder in shame. She pats his back, face full of mock sympathy.

“Dinner’s getting cold,” Aaron reminds them. John sits down, and it doesn’t take long before they’re all laughing about the communication mishaps. Aaron sighs again, but this time out of relief. There’s something to be said for spontaneous orchestration.

There is also, of course, much to be said about post-dinner cuddles and makeouts on the couch. Things such as “Damn, group makeouts are great, why do we not do this more often?”, currently said by Alexander because Aaron is too busy figuring out what all the hype about John Laurens is. With his mouth. From somewhere to his left, Eliza - sitting on Alexander in revenge for the licking - responds, “Because you always stay out until after midnight, you mango.”

 

One week later, John Laurens has moved in with them. Aaron passes Alex his jam sandwich, passes Eliza’s plate to the sink, and turns back around to cram John’s pockets with granola bars (because he doesn’t have much appetite in the mornings, and he’ll want food eventually).

“Bring Alexander home for dinner, you hear? We’re celebrating our one-week anniversary.”

John and his freckles trail laughter out the door. “Yes, _mom_.”


End file.
